Tag: Getting Older

  • That Nap Ruined My Day

    We all make mistakes.

    In fact, here’s the one I made today.

    The kid had a half day at school, so she was home by 1pm. Before I went and got her, I did all the tasks and errands that I needed to do; balanced the checkbook, did the dishes, plugged in and ran the AC’s, got the kid from school, and made lunch. I even wrote in my journal, and did a good bit of reading – caught up on some flash pieces I have been meaning to read and finished a book of short stories.

    The kid had some homework, and we both sat down on the couch to do it. I don’t do the homework, I’m more along for moral support, and encouragement. Anyway, as I was sitting there, being that I’m not needed a whole lot, I decided that I should start reading another book. I got about 2 pages into it, and I fell asleep. Now, it wasn’t a deep sleep, but it was 45 minutes. I only woke up because the kid nudged me to ask if I was sleeping.

    But for the life of me, I haven’t been able to get myself back in gear. It’s like I’m walking through sand now. I’m so sluggish and foggy brained. I had plans for the second half of the afternoon, but I can’t seem to focus. Honestly, it’s taken me an hour to get myself to just sit down and do this.

    Hell, I promised the kid we’d go running in the park, and I still have to make dinner. I thought I was going to review a story but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.

    I swear, if I nap for fifteen minutes, I am solid and refreshed. But anything over that amount of time, it’s like a crap shoot – God only knows how I’m going to react.

    I think I can blame this one on getting older.

  • Short Story Review: “Marseille” by Ayşegül Savaş

    (The short story “Marseille” by Ayşegül Savaş appeared in the April 7th, 2025 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Virginie Morgand

    Old friends are the best friends you can have! There, I said it, and I am willing to die on this completely uncontroversial hill! See, I know that my old friends, some that I have known since grade school, have made my life better, funnier, and have given me perspective in immeasurable ways. Mainly because we have grown older together. Reading “Marseille” by Ayşegül Savaş reminded me of the virtues of having old friends.

    Here’s an Overly Simplistic Synopsis: Amina, who recently had a baby, goes out for a weekend in Marseille with two of her old university friends, Alba and Lisa.

    I try to keep an open mind, and not to jump to conclusions when I start reading a story, but by the time I made it to the third paragraph, and read that this was going to be a story about three old friends going away for a weekend, the cliché and trope sirens started going off in my head. And I can admit that I was totally wrong for doing that. Though, I feel that this “red herring” of a situation was part of Ayşegül Savaş’ plan all along, lulling us in to the story.

    The story’s opening paragraph describes how Amina and her husband have been trying to give each other space and time away from each other, in an attempt to reclaim their lives, “which had been on hold since the baby was born.” So, from the start, the premise of the work is reclaiming one’s self, even after change has occurred. And as we follow Amina and her friends around for these few days, that theme is repeated, in which change is coming, or has already occurred.

    And Ayşegül Savaş handles this theme very smartly. Again, so many times this story could have fallen into the land of middle-aged people tropes, but it never goes there. For one reason, our three characters aren’t that old, perhaps just entering into their thirties. The other way this theme is handled well is that Amina comes into contact with three women, two in the setting of the story and one as a memory, over the stretch of the piece; the first is a new mother on the train out to Marseille, the next is an older woman that explains that desire goes aware after giving birth but will return, the third is a young woman on the ferry ride. It’s as if Amina encounters her present self, her future self, and her past self – these interactions don’t represent warnings of the future, or regrets of the past, but are more like mile posts signaling the changes that happen in life. But what I appreciated most that this was a story about three friends who discover that they have changed by getting older, and still remain friends.

    In the end, “Marseille” is a story about that moment that we all know is coming – that moment when we get the first hint that we aren’t young anymore.

  • And I Got Readers

    In fact, I have them on right now.

    I have been fighting that I needed them for some time. My arms are only so long, you know. But the time came. The optometrist said it was time. I didn’t want bifocals, so readers was my only option.

    I had been watching my friends over the past few years, struggle to read menus and their phones. We would laugh about getting older, but not being able to read was a problem. Then slowly over time, I watched as friend after friend would sit down at the table, take a menu, and then produce a pair of readers that rested gently on the edge of their nose. They could read the small print, while I had to guess, like deciphering the Rosetta Stone, as to what did the Chop Salad come with?

    The real issue, if I get fully honest, was that reading virtually everything was becoming a problem. Not only did I start feeling a strain on my eyes after reading for a bit, but this pain was making me hesitant to read for enjoyment. And there was no way that I was going start making the fonts larger.

    We all get older, and everything does come to an end. The joyous days of reading anything and everything unencumbered are over. This means that I will need to always wear shirts with a pocket, or I need more sports coats.

    I will not do the chain for the glasses – that is a non-starter.

  • Hurting the Toy’s Feelings

    Yesterday, on the way home from picking my kid up from school, she told me that she wanted to update her room. The issue, from her perspective, was that her room looked to “little kid,” and she wanted her room to look “older.”

    I did let her know that I understood that she was getting older, and her room needed to reflect that. Unfortunately, if she was looking for us to buy her a new bedroom set, that wasn’t happening anytime soon, but I would be willing to help her clean and reorganize her room to reflect what she was desiring it to look like.

    That was acceptable to her, and we started working on it as soon as she was done with her homework.

    To be honest, we were just shuffling stuff around – putting that under her bed, putting this on her shelf. Occasionally, she’d throw something away, but it was rare. I found so many candy wrappers. Clearly, she been squirreling away a large amount of candy.

    The biggest shock of the afternoon was that she wanted to box up her dolls, doll clothes and accessories, and put them away, up on the shelf. I knew this day was coming, but I didn’t think it would be today. At some point we all put our toys down, not to pick them up again with the intention of playing with them. I don’t know when it happened to me, but I know that by the time I was in junior high, it was sports and video games – no pretending with toys anymore.

    But the kid did ask me if this was going to hurt the dolls feelings, that she was putting them away up on the shelf. I was like, no, they’re always here when you need them.

  • She’s Got a Point

    “I certainly don’t want to be an angry old artist” – Joni Mitchell

    Neither do I.